All that glitters
by Princess-Arulmozhi
Summary: A Jedi always follows the Code. Or not.


**Note: **This again, is a challenge entry - about Qui-Gon 'disobeying the Jedi Code'. :-).  
**Era**: JA timeline, One -post.

* * *

**Note 2**: For those who've been following my 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' fic, and have been kind enough to review it - thank you so much, and know that I'm working on the next part :)

* * *

**All that glitters...**

_Blue. Green. Violet. Grey? Perhaps. There were even shades of pink and orange, if one chose to look closely at it. A feast to the eyes, certainly—especially if one raised it to light…and then, it threw out a stream of colours that could truly dazzle the eye and the mind. For it channeled the Force. To a sentient being, it was an object of great mystery, of value, of forces and memories only vaguely felt—to a Force user, it meant more...so much more. Power. Addictive to the weak mind, but a wealth of sustenance to any who could control it. One could feel the warmth of it seep into one's fingers, creep through flesh, bone and blood, the surge of Force wending it's way through one's veins—and the world exploded into a shower of energy. But that was not its only merit. There was another, much stronger emotion that coursed through the brilliantly coloured planes…_

"You do realise that you cannot keep it," commented a voice—a voice that was remarkably bland, considering the circumstances. But then, Council-Member, Jedi Master Mace Windu was well-known for uttering soul-stirring speeches in an expression-less voice. Many Jedi claimed to have mastered this art; Master Windu was one of the very few who had actually done so. Certainly, he had had occasion to prove it many times during the course of the lately concluded mission...

...a relatively simple assignment that had begun with a single master-padawan team sent to collect a band of refugees pursued by a certain section of the citizens of planet Alum're—but which had eventually involved two more master-padawan teams—that of Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn, and his padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, among them. Strangely enough—or perhaps, not quite so strangely—both refugees, as well as their pursuers were natives of Alum're; a thought that caused no uncommon misery to the pursued. Sensing the seriousness of a mission that had almost splintered into myriad segments, Master Windu had journeyed thither to put together what he personally termed 'a few loose pieces.' Fortunately, there had been little work to do when he had arrived; the teams sent before him had managed to bring affairs to completion—a prospect that afforded no end of relief to all concerned.

"An explanation would not be amiss," murmured Master Jinn. Master Windu darted a look at him, eye-brows raised; the former noted with a faint thread of amusement that his head actually seemed to enhance the illumination in one of the two cabins the shuttle possessed.

"Too many off-world missions have warped your memory, old friend. Must I send you to an initiates session of 'Lessons From the Code', when we arrive on Coruscant?"

Qui-Gon smiled faintly at this attempt at humour—though his gentian-blue eyes indicated that it did not really appeal to him. The master raised his head, swept strands of long chest-nut hair away from his temples and threw a look as though confirming that they were, indeed alone, for the present. The others were in the adjoining cabin—cramped though it was, they had respected Master Windu's need to confer with his age-mate; Obi-Wan, he sensed, was in the cock-pit.

His gaze settled once more on the near-circular object he held in his large hands—the Z'rone crystal, native to Alum're…and source of power and mystery to its people. So rare was it that only ten pieces existed in the known galaxy—the Temple owned one. To gain one was a great accomplishment; for it could only be acquired as a gift from the people of Alum're—for signal services rendered. Their own sadly complicated mission had had plenty to do with the mines that yielded such trouble-ridden crystals. One which, they hoped fervently, had been resolved for good measure.

"It was given as a gift, Mace." said the master. "As a gesture of gratitude, to Obi-Wan."

"Upon which, Obi-Wan promptly presented it to you," Master Windu's voice held a goodly mixture of sarcasm and good-humour. "Why he should ever have done so passes my comprehension. Possibly it was a bribe."

"You, revered Council-Member, can never hope to understand his motives."

"Can't I, now. Do you?"

A smile. "Perhaps."

Master Windu sighed. "Nevertheless, it's too valuable an object to be retained by you…"

"Besides, too many people saw it. Isn't that what you're implying?"

"You're not one of our finest negotiators for nothing, Qui-Gon," replied the other. "Master Zherde is already exhibiting signs of what might be expected—he and his padawan were the team sent to Alum're in the first place; they could not accomplish mission objectives, and had to request assistance—that, in itself, is galling him…"

"Even Obi-Wan could not fail to pick up his chagrin over such…'neediness', as he put it. Ridiculous."

"As you say. But Knight Zherde is young—younger than you and I, at any rate, and has taken a padawan only recently. His own estimation of their powers has been slightly higher than normal—hence the inevitable reaction at what he perceives as his failure." The master paused. "We shall be questioning them…but we won't be condemning them."

"Knight Zherde, of course, does not realise this."

"Apprenticeship is taking a toll on him, I gather."

"I'm not surprised—not as much as I was when I saw that he had taken an apprentice. Somehow, he did not appear the type to choose one…not for a while, at least. " The master stroked his beard, his thoughts apparently centred elsewhere. "His uncertainties aside, Mace—this does not give him the right to take arbitrary decisions about personal possessions. Considering what exactly transpired on Alum're, I will not make a secret of the fact that I found his opinion regarding Obi-Wan's gift…displeasing." He shot a look at the Council-member. "Surely he knew my padawan's motives. And mine."

"But he does not know you, or your padawan." Master Windu smiled. "The Force works in mysterious ways..." he caught Master Jinn raise his eyes to the ceiling. "Don't judge him harshly, Qui-Gon."

"I never do, Mace," Qui-Gon's voice was mild. "I don't think my judgement of him would give him any cause for regret…after all, he and I do not exactly see eye to eye." A massive understatement.

"Nevertheless, he esteems you, I think. Many do." Master Windu concentrated on a small, brown stain on one wall that seemed to have belonged to the shuttle for centuries. "You tend to have that effect, on your peers."

"If he does, then it is much against his instincts, I assure you," replied Qui-Gon. "I'm not impressed." He threw an amused glance at his friend. "Neither are you."

He watched Master Windu grimace, and chuckled.

* * *

Jedi padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, apprentice to the noble and fearsome Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn, one of the most respected and revered Knights of the order, was mending a tear in his master's thick cloak. 

Having spent the first few minutes of their flight beside the pilot, he had retreated to the second cabin upon their jump into hyperspace. Once there, he had volunteered his services to Master Illyana Hannica, and her padawan, Lersen Tyree—the other team which had been re-routed from a mission of their own, in a neighbouring sector. Master Hannica had sustained a few minor injuries; her padawan was relatively uninjured, but Alum're's fiercely tropical climate had not done his weakened immune system much good—he had contracted an infection, and had a slight fever. Obi-Wan had not known them before this mission had thrown them together, though he had been somewhat surprised to know that they knew him quite well. Both master and padawan had been quiet and reserved since departure—Obi-Wan rather suspected that their unfinished mission was preying on their minds—nevertheless, they had accepted his offer to assist, and were now resting on the only two bunks in the cabin. Master Zherde was still with the pilot.

The twenty-year old had kept his side of the training-bond open, hoping for a communication from his master—there was little enough chance for a vocal one, with so many others present. He and Qui-Gon had not had an opportunity to speak since they had left the planet's surface—or indeed, before it, for the arrival of Master Windu had precluded any such chance. And then there had been the events on Alum're itself…Obi-Wan was still sorting through his impressions of the planet, its people, the refugees (who had been packed unceremoniously into a larger transport, and despatched from Alum're as quickly as possible), their persecutors—

"Where did you learn to sew like that?" came a young, slightly shrill voice from somewhere to his left, and Obi-Wan stopped momentarily, the needle still wedged into the material.

"My master taught me." He might have known that Plutlin could not keep quiet for too long. The eleven-year-old hyper-active (for a Jedi) apprentice to Master Zherde had been much too silent, ever since they boarded—and for the hundredth time, he mused over the name. _Why_ would anyone name a boy Plutlin Pomkum?

/_For the same reason they named you Obi-Wan Kenobi, I imagine._/ came a voice—a voice that held something of its rich baritone even in his mind. Obi-Wan smiled. At last.

/_Your name is no less strange, master._/ A few moments passed, in which each mentally assessed the other's physical condition, determined that there were no severe injuries sustained unbeknownst to them on Alum're's surface that had suddenly assumed alarming proportions, and exchanged a few opinions about the fate of the refugees, once they reached Ver'seant, a core-world which had offered them asylum. Then, Obi-Wan touched tentatively on a question he had wanted to ask. /_Have you spoken to Master Windu?_/

/_About my name?_/

The smile grew. /_You're in a strange mood. I was talking about the…well. The mission._/

/_I know what you're referring to._/ There was a small pause. /_The answer is no, padawan._/

Padawan Pomkum was not yet well-trained enough to notice slight variations in the Force—the almost imperceptible tingles that gathered around those who were engaged in a Force-conversation…but he was a perceptive youngster, and had taken note of the fact that Master Hannica and senior padawan Tyree had roused themselves, and were looking at Padawan Kenobi attentively.

"Padawan Kenobi?" Master Hannica had a soft, mellow voice, though edged with strain at the present. "Is anything the matter?"

Padawan Kenobi seemed to come out of whatever abstract trance he had settled into, and threw a polite, reassuring smile at the tired master. "No, nothing. My master tells me that we'll arrive at Coruscant within seven standard hours. He asks you and your apprentice to rest as much as you can."

Master Hannica gave a half-hearted smile before lowering herself onto the bunk, as did her rather self-conscious padawan. Neither seemed inclined to sleep, however, and appeared content to lie still, conscious of their surroundings, yet with little inclination to participate in it. Obi-Wan waited a moment, and then turned his attention to the torn cloak in his hand—which was soon interrupted by a young voice, again.

"Were you Force-talking?" Plutlin inquired, his brown eyes appearing huge in an oval face, framed by black curls.

Obi-Wan had to control a grin. Force-talking—no doubt a useful talent—did not involve so much 'talking', as 'bellowing'. Padawan Pomkum apparently knew too much, and too few people to share his knowledge with.

Quelling a brief impulse to try 'Force-talking' into Qui-Gon's mind—/_Do not even think of such a thing, padawan mine._/—he replied. "No, I was just…talking." He threw an amused look at the boy who had suddenly grown solemn. "Doesn't your master talk to you through the Force?" Almost at once, he remembered the boy's age, and master Zherde's somewhat forbidding aspect. Not that Plutlin would be cowed down by this—it still surprised him that the two had become a team—but the boy was still in awe of his newly acquired guardian, and was treading softly, it seemed.

Plutlin shook his head, black curls bobbing. "Master Zherde says I'll have to meditate." The voice was definitely mournful. "A lot."

/_Ah. The trials of youth._/ spoke a voice in his mind, and Obi-Wan's lips twitched.

"Did Master Qui-Gon like your crystal?" was Plutlin's next question.

Master Hannica, watching from her bunk, saw Padawan Kenobi's face still at once. "Yes," he answered. "He liked it very much."

"But you can't keep it, can you?"

"No." Obi-Wan stopped threading his needle, and appeared to stare at some point where the walls met the stark white ceiling. "We're not allowed to keep valuable possessions, padawan."

"I know," Plutlin nodded knowledgeably. "Master Zherde said it'd encourage av…ava…"

"Avarice," supplied Obi-Wan, though a part of his mind bristled at the comment. /_Master, did you hear that?_/ Through the corner of his eyes, he saw Master Hannica raise an eye-brow.

/_Let it go, young one. As Master Windu pointed out, Zherde knows neither you nor me._/

/_And that makes it absolutely unbearable._/

/_Quite. Nevertheless, you will let it go._/

His padawan sighed and resumed sewing, his fingers flicking through the cloth expertly, covering the jagged tear with fine stitches.

"We couldn't shut off the pipelines in time," Plutlin remarked. "There was so much water…and I was—" the boy stopped. "Master told me to stand guard, 'cause I couldn't do much else. I couldn't."

Obi-Wan looked up, recognizing the signs of defeat, and the after-affects of what was probably the first mission for this young apprentice. "Don't worry…you'll grow stronger. And master Zherde will entrust you with more responsibility as your skills improve." A form darkened the door-way.

"He will?" Plutlin's face brightened up at this sign of encouragement from one whom he had already adopted as his model figure for padawanship. Not that he would inform Padawan Kenobi of his sentiments. Oh, no. Padawan Kenobi would probably be bored, and would think him very silly. Plutlin looked up at Obi-Wan once more, to find the latter give him a rather strange smile.

"Certainly he will. You're strong in the Force, Plutlin—"

"'Lin, please," supplied the boy. He dropped his eyes, and peeked through the lashes shyly. "Everybody calls me Plutlin, but I like 'Lin better."

"Very well. 'Lin it shall be."

"Will Master Zherde give me more to do, on other missions?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to shut off pipelines too," mused 'Lin. "Like you did, with a wave of your hand."

"In time, you will learn to do more than that, padawan," spoke a rather coarse voice, and Plutlin jumped up as Master Zherde walked in. Obi-Wan stood up at once—for some reason, he wished to put distance between himself and the rather dour-faced master. "Master Zherde," he spoke, bowed, and sweeping the half-mended cloak in his hands, walked out of the cabin.

Master Hannica watched the tableau that had wound up to an end before her eyes, gave a deep sigh, and settled herself into a healing trance for the remainder of the journey.

* * *

Obi-Wan stood in the Council Chamber behind his master, hands folded demurely into the long sleeves of his cloak, head bowed—the picture of submissiveness. His mind was stilled as far as possible, while allowing for a peaceful strain of thought processes, conducted in the privacy of his innermost mind. 

Half a day after they landed on Coruscant, they had been called before the Council. Briefing had taken hours, and had been every bit as exhausting as Obi-Wan had known it would be. All three teams had given their version of what had happened on Alum're, beginning with Zherde and Plutlin's journey there, and all subsequent happenings. Obi-Wan felt Plutlin's exhaustion seeping through the half-hearted mental shields the boy had erected—this was taxing the boy…yet, it was the first of many such gruelling sessions—the sooner he adjusted to this, the better. Master Zherde, regardless of his sentiments towards other padawans, no doubt took an interest in his own, and would train him well.

Master Hannica was giving the Council her explanations, and they were discussing her incomplete mission, now. In a minute, they would come to the end, and soon they would hand over the Alum're crystal to the Council—Qui-Gon had it with him, in a _selk_-wrapped bundle. It was not his place to question Master Windu's judgement, especially when Qui-Gon himself had acquiesced with it—and yet...

A faint buzzing wound its way into his mind, through his ears. Waves of light seemed to shimmer through the Council chambers, and he felt Qui-Gon raise his head, a slight frown on his face. Obi-Wan blinked. _Not now…_

But the Force would not be deterred at the request of a padawan. It spun through him, invaded his vision…and Obi-Wan drew his breath.

_A light-sabre. And a beautiful one it was. Sleek and well-cared for. Its bright blade cut a swathe through the air...and a faint tinge of colour shone at the edges. It did not look like anything he'd seen, thus far. All light-sabres were a thing of beauty in his opinion, but this one…ah, the grace of it overwhelmed his senses. _

Whose, though? And how wickedly graceful. Whoever wielded this object of deadly beauty possessed power immeasurable…

"…padawan? What is it?"

Obi-Wan found that he had somehow sunk to his knees in the middle of the Council chamber. Perspiration was beading on his forehead, and his master was looking down into his face with concern.

/_Young one? Are you all right?_/ Obi-Wan found the energy to nod.

Force, he had fallen to his knees in front of twelve of the most venerable Jedi masters in the galaxy—not to mention a frowning master Zherde, his gaping padawan, Master Hannica, who, along with her padawan was peering over Zherde's shoulder…and his own master, whose anxiety was sweeping over him in a warm wave.

Hoping desperately that he would not be examined by any or all of the twelve masters in the Chamber, Obi-Wan pushed himself to his feet. Master Yoda, as usual, was watching him carefully, large eyes half-closed. Master Windu looked concerned—the remaining appeared to share his thoughts, even if it was not obvious.

"Just tired, master," he murmured. "I'm sorry." Especially after he had been wondering about Plutlin's exhaustion, too. But he could not tell anyone—yet. He did not even know _what_ it meant, for Force's sake.

_Oh Force, don't let the masters question me._

Regardless of what they felt, Obi-Wan's silent wish, upon his re-assurances of his well-being, was granted. Master Jinn however, was another matter, and Obi-Wan had difficulty in convincing him that he was not in immediate need of a hover-bed. _I'm fine, master, believe me. I'm not on my last legs. Yet._ He sent a pulse of comfort through their bond, and Qui-Gon appeared marginally satisfied.

/_What, then?_/ Master Hannica was continuing; Qui-Gon's brows knit together slightly. /_A...vision?_/

Obi-Wan bowed his head. /_Yes._/

/_I see. What was it about?_/

/_A light-sabre. Just a light-sabre._/

Qui-Gon was staring straight at the beautiful rose-quartz walls of the Council Chamber, his apprentice's words echoing in his mind. /_A light-sabre? Are you sure?_/

/_Considering I've seen dozens of light-sabres almost all my life…yes, I'm sure. And this one was slightly different. Only slightly—but I could sense it._/

Obi-Wan watched a strange smile that played on his master's mouth. /_The Force truly does work in mysterious ways, young one._/

The padawan raised a ginger eye-brow. /_It does?_/

The next object of the agenda was to hand over the Alum're crystal—bestowed on Obi-Wan, and by him to his master, as a sign of his affection and loyalty. Not that anyone seemed to understand it. Would the Council?

Apparently not. All too soon Qui-Gon stepped forward, the crystal shining in the _selk_-cloth in his palm, and handed it to Master Windu, who accepted it on behalf of the Council with a formal word of thanks, along with a brief commendation of Padawan's Kenobi's 'valuable services.'

Master Windu finally gave them permission to leave. Having acknowledged Master Hannica and Master Zherde, he fixed his eyes on Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. "May the Force be with you—in all it's magnificence."

* * *

They were walking along the wide corridor that led down into the lower levels of the Temple—the residential levels. Master Hannica and her apprentice had taken their leave and gone to the healers; Naster Zherde and his padawan were their only escorts now. 

At Level 3A, Zherde paused, and took his formal leave of Master Jinn. He then turned to Obi-Wan, who still adopted the demure position required by all Jedi padawans—two steps behind his master.

"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi," he said formally. "It has been a pleasure working with you—I look forward to many such missions." Perhaps it was Obi-Wan's imagination…but he actually seemed much more at ease—probably because the crystal had been delivered to the Council and thus, his strict notions of the Jedi Code had been satisfied.

Master and apprentice bowed in turn, murmuring appropriate responses.

Zherde paused a moment. Throwing a look at the slightly restless Plutlin—a look that stilled the padawan at once—he continued. "Padawan Kenobi...I would also appreciate it very much if you could assist Plutlin in his skills with a light-sabre." Qui-Gon's eye-brows rose, and he turned towards Obi-Wan, as though in question. "Perhaps I am asking too much?"

Obi-Wan assured him politely that it was not too much. Master Zherde appeared gratified, and then, bowing again, departed for his quarters.

Obi-Wan walked behind his master, apparently deep in thought. Qui-Gon did not seem to want to talk either—though there was a twinkle in his eye that the padawan could not ignore.

"Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Do you think it will make much of a difference if I borrowed your light-sabre to—ah—teach Plutlin?"

"Certainly it would, padawan. It is mine, after all—and calibrated according to my specifications. I should imagine it wouldn't suit you at all."

Obi-Wan drew a deep breath. The world re-aligned itself—and something seemed to fall in place. He hid a smile. "Would your calibrations include…a certain Alum're crystal?"

The master's lips twitched. "I blame the Force for showing entirely too much for your benefit, young one."

A pause.

"Master Windu…"

"Knows. That, was partly the reason for why I stayed in the shuttle's cabin talking so long to him - to convince him. He was adamant...but I insisted on having my - ah - way. What I gave him today was the crystal already owned by the Temple. I had half a day to accomplish the substitution, after all." He paused. "He has, of course, promised to extract a terrible revenge, worthy of a Sith."

"Ah."

They had almost reached their quarters.

"Master?"

"Padawan?"

"You disobeyed a Council member; you've blatantly transgressed the Code…and all for the sake of possession of a crystal."

"One could call it that. Yes."

"Why?"

Qui-Gon paused by the control panel. "Years ago, on a certain padawan's life-day, I presented him with a…rock. To all intents and purposes, it was just a rock—and yet this apprentice did not consider it as such. He tucked it away into a fold of his tunic, carried it with him on all missions—he still does. He has communicated to me, more than once, about what it means to him. At times with his words—at others, with his actions. The foolish young one…sometimes, he thinks I do not know; that I have not noticed—yet I do. I always have."

Obi-Wan's face was tinged a delicate pink. Suddenly, he appeared to find the floor very interesting.

"I honour his faith and affection…by preserving the crystal he chose to give me. I wished to let him know the value I placed on it…and I could think of no greater way to accomplish this than by using it in my light-sabre…a Jedi's most valuable possession. I could no more give it away, than I would my sabre. It is now a part of myself—and so it shall remain, until I pass into the Force…and beyond." Qui-Gon stopped. "If this is a transgression, padawan mine….then so be it."

The padawan's face seemed unreadable. Qui-Gon stood looking down at the smaller figure, watching Obi-Wan blink rapidly.

They stood in silence for a few moments, unaware of the control panel, and of the door that was already open.

Finally, Obi-Wan heaved a deep sigh. "Spar with me tomorrow, master?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "The one pleasure of my life, padawan."

They entered their quarters, and the door swished shut behind them.

* * *

THE END. 


End file.
